


the pythagorean theorem

by Bluebluebaby



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, and perez is a babe so, fight me, friends to fuck buddies to lovers?, listen i know a threesome fic sounds salacious but i honestly feel like it's grounded in character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebluebaby/pseuds/Bluebluebaby
Summary: "Ana briefly wonders if that’s her ultimate purpose here, a2 + b2 = c2 , and she’s merely the right angle helping them to find their fucking hypotenuse. "Jen and Judy befriend Perez and menage à trois their way into admitting they're hopelessly in love with each other... or something.
Relationships: Jen Harding/Judy Hale, Jen Harding/Judy Hale/Ana Perez
Comments: 109
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my working title for this was "cursed threesome," so take from that what you will. 
> 
> Rated E for the eventual ~action~ but this chapter's pretty tame, tbh!

On Thursday nights, Jen and Judy go drinking. 

It’s the silver lining of Charlie being old enough to babysit (and willing to do so, as long as it’s not the _actual_ weekend)-Jen gets a few hours to feel like a person, not a mom. 

(Not that the two are mutually exclusive- it’s just a nice break to exist in public spaces and be acknowledged for something more than her uterus and its life-giving properties. Between “mom” and “”widow,” there’s not always a lot of room for _Jen_.) 

Jen doesn’t think it’s really that strange that their go to is a dive bar that caters primarily towards queer women; she just wants to hang out with Judy, and not being bothered by lecherous men is a nice upside. Besides, _Judy_ belongs there, and Jen is her guest. She’s not like, an interloper of lesbianism or anything. And it’s not officially a gay bar; it’s a local haunt that happens to be in a neighborhood with a very high ratio of gays-per-capita, or something. 

Jen loves the bar ( _Lisa’s Place,_ which either sounds like a domestic violence shelter or a crafting supply store), because it provides all the things that a good dive should: disinterested customer service, a nonexistent wine list, and a truly tragic jukebox selection that Judy decreed “absolutely perfect.” 

One could argue that Jen and Judy drink plenty at home- why spend more money and go someplace they have to wear pants? 

But at home they drink wine, and wine makes Jen _want_ things.

Things she can’t, or _shouldn’t_ have. 

At the bar, they drink whiskey, and whiskey makes her happy with what she already has. 

(It’s safer, actually, for them _not_ to drink at home, in this instance.) 

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is this song? It sounds like they’re singing through a fucking jar of mayonnaise.” 

Judy glares at her and Jen only wants to kiss her a little bit (she’s content to sit on her hands, thanks for that, booze).

“Jen, you can’t just talk about Lucinda that way. I won’t allow it.” 

“Since when do you like shitty honky tonk music? You’re not a fucking redneck!” 

“She’s a _poet_ ,” Judy emphasizes, leaning in in that way she does when she’s a little tipsy and a lot impassioned. “It’s not about the sound, it’s about the _feeling_.” 

“Well the _sound_ makes me _feel_ bad, so, you’re gonna have to do more than that to sell me.” 

Judy huffs, and the song changes from an attempt to make grocery shopping sound sexy to a fucking ballad. 

“This one is _it_ , Jen. Honestly, it’s one of the greatest love songs ever.” 

“Fine,” Jen sighs, “but you’re buying the next round.” 

To her credit, Jen does attempt to listen, even going so far as to sway ever so slightly in her seat. She thinks Ted might have opened for Lucinda Williams once, at the Troubadour probably, but at the time she wasn’t in a position to give a shit. Maybe she’ll mention it to Judy this weekend, when she’s had too much wine and is desperate to impress her. 

(That’s normal, right? Being best friends with someone and living together for over a year and still wanting them to think you’re cool and hot? No need for introspection there, no siree bob.) 

She has just enough whiskey in her system to let the words wash over her, to feel, just a little bit, the yearning that Judy so clearly connects to. 

_Does this make sense It doesn't matter anyway_

_Is it coincidence or was it meant to be_

_Cause there's something about what happens when we talk_

But her attention is diverted as Lucinda sings “ _but_ _all I regret now is I never kissed your mouth_ ” (and maybe she feels Judy’s eyes on her a little there, a pointed message she’s choosing not to receive). 

There’s a sad looking woman in the corner who’s more hair than face, and she appears to be on the far side of moping. 

“Is that? Perez?” 

“Oh my god! It is! She looks so sad- we should talk to her.” 

“She hates you, Jude.” 

“Okay, I think that’s a little harsh. But she looks like she could use a friend.” 

“You know what- let me handle this.” 

Jen walks over, with the plan to sneak by and go to the bathroom if she happens to be wrong, but her gut instinct was right- though she’s never seen Perez so bleary-eyed. 

“Detective?” 

“Not anymore,” she hiccups (or sobs, it’s kind of hard to tell). “I quit last week. And you know, I thought Michelle would take me back, since I wasn’t a cop anymore, but no, it’s all ‘ _you were still overprotective and I’m trying to move on_ ’ like I wasn’t right about Judy fucking Hale the whole time!” 

Judy fucking Hale, who happens to be right behind Jen (because apparently following the simplest of instructions is still completely outside her wheelhouse). 

“I think it’s really brave that you turned in your badge. Most people wouldn’t be bold enough to do that.” 

“You know what? _Fuck_ you.” 

It’s here that the bartender interjects, asking if they know Perez, and if so, could they please inform her that she’s being cut off and will need to leave her keys at the bar. 

“Alright, Det- Perez-” 

“My name’s _Ana_ ! Michelle is the only one in the _world_ who calls me _Ana_. Can you call her and get her to pick me up?”

“You know what, Ana, sweetie, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna go home with me and Jude here, and I’m gonna let you crash in my guest house, okay? We’ve got you.” 

“You’re sure it won’t be a burden?” 

(Perez is actively crying right now, and Jen is having way too many flashbacks to attempting to confess to murder.) 

“You could never be a burden, okay, Ana? You just need a safe place to sleep it off. And hey, we’ve got some pie left at the house, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?” 

“I do like pie.” 

“Exactly. So you come with us, and we’ll take good care of you, okay?”

The bartender mouths “thank you” at them, and Jen thinks maybe this act of kindness forgives her unwelcome presence in this space. Look after a forlorn lesbian, get a few more free passes to hang out with the hip gays. 

_ 

Jen drives, overly cautiously perhaps, as Judy attempts to play the rest of the album she’d picked at the bar over the car stereo. 

“Fucking hell, Judy, we’re not trying to get her to _kill herself_.”

“You know what, I was just looking for a bit of closure. Our night didn’t take the course I anticipated!”

“So you’re mad that I did what Judy would do and extended kindness to a relative stranger?” 

Judy looks over at her, shocked and sincere. 

“Of course I’m not, Jen. I really admire your generosity. Um, am I sleeping on the couch, or?” 

“No, we’ll share my bed, stupid. Unless you’re trying to spoon Perez, which, by all means, go for it.” 

Judy giggles. 

“Please, I would never take advantage of an intoxicated woman. Now when she’s sober…” she waggles her brows and it’s both cute and a little disturbing. 

“You’re a weird person, Judy.” 

_ 

Perez ( _Ana_ ) has fallen asleep in the backseat, and there’s something childlike about her furrowed brow and clenched fists that brings out Jen’s maternal side. 

“Jude, you grab some clean sheets and I’ll get her settled, yeah? Ana, sweetie? We’re here, let’s get you ready for bed, okay?” 

Ana’s eyes flutter open, and Jen realizes their faces are _very_ close. She’s never really looked at Perez in this much detail, noticed how classically lovely her face is- dark eyes, long lashes, full lips. Beneath the scent of liquor, she smells like verbena and expensive moisturizer. 

(Michelle is maybe a little bit of an idiot.) 

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“We all need a little niceness sometimes.” 

“You know,” Ana leans on her, as Jen attempts to unlock the guest house without anyone falling down, “everyone’s always tripping over themselves for Judy, but you’re like, way prettier.” 

“Okay, you’re definitely still _very_ drunk.” 

“Yeah but I _mean_ it,” Ana slurs. “ She’s _cute_ , but you’re like… staring at the sun. Hurts kinda, but you can’t look away.” 

So she’s sad _and_ poetic as a drunk. _Fun._

“Thank you, I think…” Jen grimaces, as she rummages around in Judy’s things for pajamas that might fit a woman who is not typically described as “tiny.” 

“You know what, I’m going to go grab some sweats from the house. And that pie- I do try to be a woman of my word.” 

Fortunately, Judy’s emerged from the closet with spare linens (Jen hopes her feelings weren’’t too hurt by Perez’s remarks, although, knowing ), and makes quick work of the bedsheets, while talking Ana down. 

When Jen returns with some of Ted’s things, (after a quick detour to confirm that Henry is asleep and Charlie is dicking around on the internet within the confines of the house) Ana is sitting on the edge of the bed looking solemn, while Judy exudes compassion (so, typical weeknight, cool). 

“You just have to give yourself time. And, you could do anything, with your pension! Travel, adopt some pets, take up a new hobby…” 

“But I want _Michelle._ ” 

  
“I know, I know.” 

“I’ve got some clothes for you to change into,” Jen gestures, and when Ana makes no move to stand, helps her get her shirt over her head and her pants and shoes off. 

(She’s just going to have to sleep in her bra. Jen has her limits, even in her rare moments of magnanimity.) 

Perez eats her pie happily, and then forgives Judy for being a riptide, because it’s _that_ delicious (Jen would love to see her remember this conversation in the morning, she could really use a laugh, these days), and immediately lies down on the mattress. 

Jen tucks her in, pushing back her (somehow still magnificent) hair and rubbing her thumb soothingly along her forehead. She’s out like a light, soon enough, snoring lightly and looking a bit less pained. 

Judy’s got a funny look on her face when Jen stands to leave. 

“What? Do I have my shirt tucked into my underwear or something?”

“No, no… I just thought that I was the only grown woman who got that kind of special treatment from you.” 

She’s joking, or trying to, Jen knows, but there’s a genuine hurt there, which Jen thinks is a bit ridiculous (there’s only one woman in her life she’d hide a body with, okay?) but her boundaries with ridicule are always more flexible where Judy’s concerned. 

“Babe, you’re about to share my bed with me, I’d say you’ve still got the most special treatment.” 

_ 

Jen is fucking tired by this point, but Judy flits around the bedroom, chattering about kismet and how this really feels like a chance for her to make things right, how maybe they can help Perez get her groove back, and frankly, Jen’s not sure she wants to know what exactly Judy’s plan for that is, given, well, everything about Judy. 

“Jude. Can we just get in bed?” 

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Um, You still sleep on the left side?” 

“Yup.” 

“Did you know Perez kind of has a thing for you? She’s got great taste, I’ll give her that.” 

“Oh my god, shut up Judy. I’m trying to sleep, not have nightmares.” 

“Can I- I just want to play one more song, okay? It makes a good lullaby.” 

Jen’s too exhausted to fight back, and she realizes that despite the slower tempo and warbly vocals, she knows this song- between waxing poetic about Ani, Ted had played Nick Drake’s _Pink Moon_ on repeat and attempted to explain the wild and wonderful world of alternate guitar tunings. 

It’s familiar _and_ new, which is maybe an obvious metaphor for the women in her house right now. 

The bed is big enough that two bodies can sleep comfortably without touching (and wasn’t that a blessing in the last year of her marriage), but she reaches out a hand towards Judy, brushing their fingers together ever so slightly, a reminder that she’s not alone.

Lucinda sings them a lullaby:

_Which will you go for_

_Which will you love_

_Which will you choose from_

_From the stars above_

_Which will you answer_

_Which will you call_

_Which will you take for_

_For your one and all_

_And tell me now_

_Which will you love the best_

Jen doesn’t have time to make a choice though; sleep is just too tempting. 

_

Judy insists on going all-out with the hangover cure breakfast in the morning, though she and Jen are more than fine. 

Henry and Charlie aren’t ones to turn down pancakes and bacon, so Jen busies herself making the strongest coffee she can. Perez joins them just as the boys are leaving for school and Judy is heading out for work- Jen walks back to the kitchen after giving everyone their customary goodbye hugs at the door to find the (former) detective staring at her as if she’s just cracked a case. 

“You know, you two sleeping together makes a lot of your terrible choices actually make sense.” 

“We’re not- are you really going to come for _my_ choices after last night?” 

Perez shrugs, ripping off the corner of a pancake and eating it dry. 

(She could probably kill a man with her hands, too. It’s a bit early in the day to ask if she has, though.) 

“So you just go on… platonic date nights to gay bars? And you had the nerve to judge my living arrangement. At least my ex and I were actually exes.” 

“Okay, but see, that’s more of an argument for creating space. When you’re done, you’re done. There’s no beginning _or_ end with me and Judy.” 

“But you want there to be.” 

(It’s decidedly _not_ a question.) 

“I want a lot of things,” Jen sighs. “I want my kids to still have their dad. I want my mom to know that I loved her, despite being a little shit. Wanting is not a very useful expenditure of my energy.” 

Perez nods, sipping her coffee, letting Jen sit with the weight of her implied admission. 

“Well if you two aren’t actually together, I guess I don’t feel so bad about hitting on you last night. I hope I didn’t forget I did anything too untoward.” 

“Hey, it’s not every day someone tells me I’m prettier than Judy. And you were a total gentlelady,” Jen winks, enjoying the thrill at making Perez blush. 

“Thanks, though. For looking after me. I’ve been… going through a bit of a rough patch, as if that weren’t totally obvious.” 

Jen puts a hand on her shoulder, compelled again to reassure her that she’s doing just fine, that everyone has fucking meltdowns and identity crises, and hey, she doesn’t even have to hide a body! 

But instead she says: 

“If you ever feel like just… hanging out, being a person, join us next week. Before you get totally shit-faced. It’ll be fun.” 

Perez raises a skeptical brow, and Jen feels kind of like an idiot for overstepping. 

“Fuck it, it’s not like I have other plans.” 

Jen’s smile is involuntary, and probably too-big, but Perez still lets her put her number in her phone, and even laughs a little bit when Jen makes her promise to not let Judy pick the music selection. 

Judy will be thrilled (maybe too thrilled- Jen’s really gonna have to manage expectations there), and Jen feels a strange excitement too, at the the prospect of whatever the fuck this is going to be. 

  
It’s a foreign enough feeling she might even call it _hope._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which gals are pals... etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to readtheroomfucko for the unicorn hunters headcanon, shoutout to viviandarkbloom in the last tango in halifax fandom for making me believe that not only is threesome fic possible, it's good and necessary, shoutout to diana-maria riva for consistently setting amazing instagram thirst traps.

Ana seriously considers cancelling on Jen. 

For one, leaving the house is just not high on her to-do list this week. For another, hanging out with a woman and her platonic life-partner (who coincidentally banged your ex in your formerly shared home) who have been ever-present in the last 3 major cases you worked is not the pinnacle of ethical behavior. 

But, she’s not sure she owes the Laguna PD anything anymore, and there’s something fascinating about the Hale/Harding dynamic, even if it might be macabre. 

Judy immediately compliments her outfit, saying how she thought being off the job really suited her, and she’s starting to understand where Jen’s coming from- Judy is fucking annoying but she’s also sincere. Ana can tell when people are bullshitting her, and Judy genuinely believes that her dress is, in fact, “ _ an absolute revelation _ .” 

She’d thought it would be awkward, being a third wheel in whatever unresolved psychosexual drama Jen and Judy have going on, but it’s the opposite- her presence appears to calm them, provide a safe point of triangulation for the fucking obvious pining. 

Ana briefly wonders if that’s her ultimate purpose here,  _ a _ _ 2 _ _ \+ b _ _ 2 _ _ = c _ _ 2  _ , and she’s merely the right angle helping them to find their fucking hypotenuse. 

But fuck it, she’s lonely, and there are worse ways to spend her time than flirting with beautiful women. 

She’s mostly an audience for their banter, with the occasional intensely interested line of questioning about herself, but every now and then, Jen or Judy will wander off for something or another, and the energy changes immediately. 

“So, you and Jen…” Judy trails off, waggling her brows in what Ana assumes is suggestion (she’s never met anyone who so closely resembled a muppet). 

“Uh uh. We’re not doing girl talk.” 

“I’m just saying, you two have a vibe! I’m picking up what you’re putting down.” 

“I thought Jen was straight, Judy. Isn't’ that what you told  _ Michelle _ ?” 

Judy pouts, and fuck it, Ana’s not going to spend the rest of her life playing bad cop. 

“If I had to place bets on the two of you, though, I would have definitely wagered on her having swam in the lady pond.” 

“Right? It’s the belts, I think.” 

“And the outward hatred of men.”

Judy nods.

“That, too.” 

“We have that in common, Jen and I. Maybe that’s the  _ vibe _ you’re picking up.” 

Judy shrugs. 

“You two would be totally hot together.” 

“Don’t think about me having sex, Hale.” 

“C’mon, call me Judy, we’re friends now!” 

“Don’t think about me having sex, Judy.” 

_

Judy wanders off to dance to old-school Kylie Minogue (because why wouldn’t she), and Jen takes the opportunity to go into hardball mode. 

“So, you and Michelle… how did you two meet? I always wondered what that was about.” 

“Because I’m the anti-Judy?”

Jen laughs. 

“No, because she was kind of a _ baby _ . What’s the exact age gap there?” 

“15 years.” 

Jen gapes.. 

“Don’t look at me like I’m a creep! She was twenty-nine when we met, with the self-assuredness of a post-divorce forty year-old.” 

“Hey, I don’t blame her, you look amazing.” 

(Ana likes this Jen, who isn’t yelling at her about secret files or lying to her about property damage. People contain multitudes, etc.)

“We met at work actually. There was a break-in at her restaurant, I caught the guy, she thanked me with a gourmet meal and the rest is lesbian history.” 

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” Jen covers her hand with her own. Her skin is cool and dry, and rougher than she would have expected. She doesn’t mind. 

“I’m making my peace with it.” 

She means it, she realizes. She’s beginning to let go of the mental space that once housed dreams of a joyful reunion, being welcomed back into the fold, and beginning to imagine a life without Michelle. (She’s not yet allowing herself to imagine anyone  _ else _ , but any progress is good progress.) 

“Do you want to dance?” 

Ana balks, and Jen backtracks with “Unless, of course, you can’t dance,” which was the worst possible thing she could have said. 

“I’m Dominican- of course I can fucking dance.” 

So they do, and Jen is maybe showing off her fancy white-girl-who-did-modern moves, but it feels good, to turn off her brain and live in her body. 

It’s the only one she has, after all- it might as well feel like home. 

_

After a few weeks of meeting up at the bar, Judy suggests they hang out at the house instead- she’s got a new pizza stone she’s dying to break in or something. 

Ana gives into curiosity, yet again, and accepts. 

Jen’s house makes her viscerally uncomfortable- it’s like the embodiment of mediocre white male privilege. Clean lines and beautiful views and absolutely no character. 

(Just because she worked tirelessly to solve her husband’s death doesn’t mean she wouldn’t have hated him in life. And with a house like this? He was probably a real fuckin’ asshole.) 

She always hated those calls to these neighborhoods- angry suburbanites expecting her to drop everything to find a stolen bike or solve the mystery of who sideswiped the mirror of their Audi. Not exactly what she signed up for, what with the overcoming childhood trauma and all. 

Fortunately, they opt for the outdoor living room, since it never rains in Southern California. It’s still ridiculous, but less oppressive. 

“We should get stoned,” Judy sighs, looking almost wistful. 

“You know what, Judes, I like the way you think. Change things up, appreciate the ocean breeze. That’s fucking self-care right there, Oprah would be so proud.” 

They look at her expectantly, as if to say “ _ are you gonna narc? Or are you cool? _ ”

Ana hasn’t smoked in years, and this all kind of feels like high school, when you do things you’re not quite comfortable with because a pretty girl asks you to. 

“Yeah, sure, why not. Would you believe lots of people in my life have implored me to ‘chill out?’” 

They smoke just before the pizza comes out of the oven, and Ana thinks about the early nineties, when lighting a woman’s cigarette was the easiest way to get her to take you home. 

She remembers why she never particularly enjoyed the sensation of being high- it feels like her brain is swimming, like the words won’t come, but clearly they do, because Jen is laughing at something she’s said. 

“You’re fucking  _ funny _ , you know that? You act like you have a stick up your ass, but you’re actually  _ really  _ fucking funny.” 

“Ugh, I hate that phrase, stick up your ass,” Judy complains. “It’s like- first of all, let people put whatever they want up their asses- it’s not hurting anyone else! And the whole idea just feels like freudian and frankly, a little homophobic.” 

“You’re so right, Jude,” Jen agrees, nodding seriously, before breaking back out into giggles. 

They’re all three sitting on the couch now, Ana in the middle, because Jen and Judy insisted, and the more stoned they get, the more touchy everyone is. Normally, Ana would mind, but right now, it’s kind of nice, to remember that she’s a human person, and not a ghost. 

“Do you believe in ghosts?” 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Judy agrees, as Jen simultaneously says “fuck no!” 

“Jen, you don’t believe in spirits? Well, gosh, maybe that’s your whole problem- if you listened to those who’ve gone on-” 

“We are  _ not _ getting into this, Jude.” 

“I see my mom, like a lot. When Flo was near death,, she told me, _ Ana, your mother looks so much like you _ . “ 

“ _ Yes _ , people communicate between realms when they’re in that in-between space, see, Jen, I’m not totally crazy here!” 

“Okay, that’s very much a  _ good for you, not for me _ situation,” Jen insists, angrily eating her crust. 

Perhaps death talk isn’t the best for a relaxed girls night. Although, with these two… 

“You have the most lovely hands, “ Judy whispers, as she lifts Ana’s arm closer to her inquisitive gaze. 

Judy’s pupils are blown wide, her skin flushed. In this moment, she treats Ana as if she is made of the most precious, fragile material. 

(In this moment, maybe she is)

Ana finally understands why seemingly every person Judy’s ever met wants to kiss her. 

Oh right. She should respond to that compliment. 

“Thanks. I make my own olive oil scrub.” 

“I would _ love _ if you shared that recipe with me.” 

Judy smiles at her, and it feels easy to smile back, to let go of all the animosity she’s held for her for so long. She feels it leaving her body, floating away on the breeze (or maybe she’s floating, it’s kind of hard to tell), when the sound of Jen’s voice interrupts them. 

“Have either of you ever had a threesome?” 

Judy redirects quickly.

“Once Steve found out I was bi, he used to try to get me to have one with him, but I never did. Felt gross, or predatory. I feel like, objectively, I’ve slept with a lot of people, but interestingly enough, none of the at the same time.” 

“That is interesting, Jude,” Jen nods, studious, as if taking very important data. “What about you, Ana?” 

Were she sober, Ana would have a)nipped that question right in the bud or b)firmly denied any past sexcapades, but she feels free and open, no secrets to keep. 

“Yeah, a couple of times, in the 90s.” 

It takes Jen and Judy a minute to find their words. 

“Um, so, how exactly did that work?” Judy asks. 

“Well, one was with a couple who was already together, they wanted to spice things up, you know, and then the other was just kind of spur of the moment, after a party. Shrooms were involved.” 

“Okay, Ana! Look at you, cuffing the bad guys in the day and breaking hearts at night! That’s like, so hot, you should write a screenplay or something.” 

Jen’s high, but not so high she can’t roll her eyes at Judy. 

“Okay, but like, what did you  _ do _ ? Does one person watch while the other two get it on, is one person like the designated sex-object and the other two fuck them? I feel like I would need a diagram.” 

She sounds disappointed, like the mechanics of a three-way are just one more obstacle in her never-ending quest for happiness. 

“You do whatever you want. With three women… the possibilities are endless, depending on what you’re into.” 

Judy’s staring off, dreamy eyed, clearly thinking about naked ladies. 

“You’re like, so flexible, Jen. You’d be great in that setting.” 

“Aw, thanks, Jude, you’re sweet, you know that?” 

Ana realizes she’s not high enough to just ignore the elephant in the room anymore. 

“Were you trying to ask me to have a threesome with you two?” 

Judy chokes, as if this possibility had never occurred to her (which, suspect), and Jen just shrugs aimlessly. 

“I mean, if you’re offering... The last person I slept with was a chiropractor... who then totaled my car while on a bender, so I’m due for more excitement in the bedroom.” 

“Ben…” Judy mutters, shaking her fist at the sky. “Wait, Jen, I thought you were like, firm line on the not dating women thing.” 

“Well, yeah, but a one-time three-way isn’t  _ dating _ . It’s a cool story you tell your grandkids on your deathbed.” 

“Yeah, that tracks,” Judy trails off, taking another hit, wishing she were more high than she currently is. 

“I haven’t even kissed anyone since Michelle.” 

Judy frowns. 

“Well that’s stupid! You’re like, _ sooooo _ kissable.” 

Ana arches an eyebrow to warn her that  _ that _ was not an invitation. 

“I’d kiss you, for sure,” Jen offers. 

“Good to know romance isn’t dead.” 

“Yeah, well, like I said, I’m not a lesbian, I’m just a sexually frustrated old harpy so that’s as smooth as my talk gets.” 

(Ana is actually pretty sure by this point that Jen may, in fact,  _ be _ a lesbian, or at least a homoromantic bisexual, and that this is apparently both Jen’s greatest fear and her most compelling obsession, if the way she’s looking at Ana’s lips and licking her own is any indication.) 

“Okay, honestly, I have zero fucks left to give at this point in my life, so. If you two want to have a three-way, sure. I will absolutely not be fucking either of you individually, considering your past histories- I’m not trying to get murdered in a fit of jealousy. I’ll let you two be in charge of scheduling.” 

Ana stands and stretches, before leaning down to give Jen the briefest of kisses- soft but confident. 

“I don’t need your pity kisses, Harding, I’ve still got it.” 

She’s pretty sure she hears Judy’s wolf-whistle as she walks away, 

And maybe, she’s got just a little bit more pep in her step. 

The bitch? Is back. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna do one more chapter to tie things up, narratively speaking, but here's the main event, as it were. 
> 
> thanks for reading! i'm so glad to have this absolute nonsense out of my brain!!!

So, it turns out that successfully planning a threesome takes, like, a lot of planning work, which makes Judy glad she’s orchestrating this with Jen instead of Steve- they have a stellar track record of pulling off last-minute events, and Judy knows that her suggestions of snacks or beverages or essential oils won’t be vetoed out of hand, even if Jen takes a little persuading. 

First step: setting up a group chat to coordinate details. 

**_Charlie’s Angels_ **

**JH:** Oh my god Jude you’re the worst 

**AP:** Yeah, not doing yourself any favors here, Hale. 

_ Judy changed the group chat name to: The Glass Menage a Trois _

**Better?**

**AP:** Marginally. 

**JH:** This is why I never let me children see my phone so help me god. Speaking of... They’ll be at their grandmother’s on the last weekend of this month if you want to come over, Ana… 

***christina aguilara gif***

**AP:** You two promise nobody’s going to cry or fly into a vicious rage? 

**Oh, girl, we’re like, totally taking care of our mental**

**health to ensure this doesn’t jeopardize our friendship <3 **

**AP:** It is a testament to how badly I need to get laid that I’m saying yes. Don’t disappoint me. 

**JH:** Do you have any food allergies, medical concerns, should we get an emergency contact for you? 

**AP:** Can’t do strawberries. If anything happens where I would need medical attention I’ll just go ahead and die of embarrassment. 

**Okay, great! Can’t wait see you then xoxoxo**

Well that was a relative breeze- now Judy just has to convince Jen not to have a breakdown over the next two weeks. 

Jen’s been kind of… on edge lately- sort of like since Ana left they’re an ungrounded outlet, in danger of sparking out into an electrical fire. 

She might be a little high when she comes up with the metaphor, but like, it totally makes sense. Ana is their third prong, saving everything from going up in flames.

She’s stomping around the kitchen pouring wine on a Wednesday, and Judy can’t deal with the low-simmering rage anymore- she’s been on the other end of Jen’s blow-ups before, and it isn’t good. 

“Everything okay, Jen?” 

“Of course everything is okay. Why wouldn’t it be okay?” 

‘You seem… tense? More than usual, I mean.” 

“I don’t know Jude, could it be that I’ve stupidly agreed to a three way with my best friend and co-conspirator and the former cop who tried to have us both arrested?” 

“Well actually, it sounds like Ana really doesn’t have any bone to pick with you- you know we don’t have to go through with this, if you don’t want to. We were like, pretty stoned. I back out of plans I make while I’m stoned  _ all _ the time.” 

“Yeah, but Jude. I want to go through with it. Like,  _ really _ want to go through with it. Hence, the giant ball of anxiety.” 

_ Oh. _

Of all the answers she’d expected Jen to give, this wasn’t one of them. 

“It’s okay to want things, Jen. It’s even okay to want  _ people. _ ” 

(She wants to say “me, it’s okay to want  _ me, _ ” but she can’t. Not like this. They have to ground the wire before she can go there.) 

Jen takes a long swallow of her wine; Judy reminds herself that in a week she’ll be able to openly ogle that throat, so she can probably chill out now. 

“I feel like, literally anyone would find you and Perez hot, right? That’s like, got nothing to do with sexuality.” 

“Well, I don’t want to toot my own horn, but yeah, she’s like a classic babe. Killer curves, and those  _ eyes _ \- and hey, Jen, if I didn’t already swing that way you’d be opening my door, knowwhatimsayin?” 

Jen looks at her, momentarily confused. 

“You find  _ me  _ attractive?” 

Judy can’t help the laugh that escapes, and she really hopes Jen doesn’t take it the wrong way (as she’s so wont to do). 

“Jen, I’ve been blatantly flirting with you since the moment we met. Not my fault you didn’t think I’d put my money where my mouth is.” 

“Right. Well… What If I don’t know what to do?” 

Judy grins. 

“Well, I can’t speak for Ana, but judging by how openly thirsty for you she is, I think we’d both be delighted if you just laid back and enjoyed yourself. But then again, you really are good in a crisis. I have a feeling you’ll come through.” 

“Thanks, Jude. You’re a… good friend.” 

They watch facts of life and Jen rests her head on Judy’s shoulder, and if she’s still having an existential moment, she’s hiding it well. She falls asleep midway through the second episode (she’s literally been losing sleep over this, huh), and Judy gets her upstairs, settled in bed, before retreating to the guest house. 

There? She lets herself sit with the image of Jen,  _ wanting. _

She wasn’t kidding when she said she’d been flirting with Jen incessantly, she just sort of never thought she’d have a snowball’s chance in hell, so it was a fun game, an idle distraction from the darker thoughts in her head. 

And she’d never brought the flirting into the realm of fantasizing or objectification- she’d always felt so gross when some skeezy guy had implied he’d gotten off to the thought of her and she was  _ not  _ about to do that to Jen. 

But Jen, Jen wants her too, at least for one night, and Judy thinks it wouldn’t be so out of line to think about that possibility, a little, before falling asleep. 

She closes her eyes, lets her thoughts wander. 

Jen would start things off slow, nervous, but once she allows herself to give in to the feeling? All bets are off. Judy’s always been a vivid daydreamer, with a particular gift for imagery. Her mind paints Jen- on top of her, underneath her, beside her, rolling her hips, biting her lips, letting herself go. 

Judy doesn’t fully realize that her hands have migrated between her legs until it’s over, and she’s shaking from the aftershocks and biting back the last of her moans. 

If it’s this good in her head? Well, Perez isn’t the one that’s going to be needing an ambulance, that much is for sure.

_ 

Judy thinks, all in all, she hasn’t gone too overboard with “party planning.” Just a few nicer wine selections, a cheeseboard, and various topping options for pancakes in the morning (that is, if it turns into a sleepover situation. If not, Henry’s just going to have an awesome Monday morning.). 

Ana arrives exactly when she said she would, 7 pm on the dot, and Jen is already uncorking the bottles as Judy ushers her into the kitchen. 

“Jesus Christ your neighbor is annoying. How do you live here?” 

“Oh god, you have no idea. Honestly, Karen needs to fuckin’ get laid. Like, if we think we’re in a bad way, she’s a million times worse.” 

“Oh, maybe we could invite her next time,” Judy offers, for some reason feeling bad about leaving Karen out. 

“I swear to god Judy I will put you back on the fucking street before I even consider that. I don’t care if you’re joking, some lines should not. be. crossed.” She turns to Ana, back in realtor mode. “So- Red or white?” 

Ana drinks red, like any good lesbian, and Judy decides to join her, since lady lovin’  _ is _ the order of the evening. 

(Jen opts for white, holding tightly to the vestiges of her heterosexual blonde lady narrative.) 

“So, how was your week?” 

(It feels rude not to ask, and Judy is genuinely curious.) 

“It was fine. I planted a garden.” 

“That’s incredible! I bet you have such a green thumb. Do you ever hit up the Farmer’s Market? Maybe you could sell your stuff there- that would be a great pivot, don’t you think?” 

“Jude.” It’s a warning, but a warm one. “Maybe save the garden talk for after?” 

“How was  _ your _ week?”

Ana gives her a pained look, as if this effort is kind of killing her. 

“Thank you so much for asking! Honestly, it’s been great. Henry and I painted together, and Charlie passed his Chemistry exam- I even got a new member of my painting class at work.” 

Ana looks at Jen, as if to ask  _ and you? Let’s get all the pleasantries out of the way, shall we?  _

“Yeah, um, my week was good too. I’ve been really looking forward to tonight.” 

Her hand shakes ever so slightly as she breathes out the last word, and just like that, Judy feels an energetic shift, electrifying the air around them. . 

Ana, magnificent ground wire that she is, sets their wine glasses aside and takes Jen by the hand. 

“Should we take this upstairs?” 

It’s weird to be in Jen’s room like this, nervous and tingly and not in baggy pajamas. 

Ana drapes her jacket on the back of a chair, goes into full cop mode (which, honestly,  _ works _ for Judy,  _ fuck _ the police, heyooooo). 

“So: ground rules. Let’s all be clear on our boundaries before we get started. Where do you like to be touched, what’s a no go, what acts do you like to give, what do you like to receive. Communication is the key to everyone having a good time, alright?” 

Jen looks like answering will make her throw up (which, feels a little late in the game to be  _ embarrassed _ , but okay), so Judy answers first. 

“Honestly, I’m down for pretty much everything- but I feel like maybe we should veer towards the vanilla side of things for the first time. So maybe like, oral and hand stuff, giving or receiving? Oh, and I  _ love  _ to have my breasts played with. Like,  _ love, _ love.” 

“Noted. What about you Jen- anything you want us to know ahead of time?” 

Jen looks at the ceiling, clasping her hands behind her back, and Judy instinctively reaches out a hand for her bicep, silently reminding her to breathe. 

“I  _ will _ be keeping my bra on. I don’t mind..  _ receiving  _ oral, but I don’t know that I’m ready to go there as a giver. But kissing and hands, yeah, I think I can do that.” 

“Anything that makes you uncomfortable or feels like it’s moving too fast, you just say the word, okay? I’m assuming everyone’s up on their tests?” 

“Oh yeah, totally,” Judy supplies, eager to let Ana know that even if she is kind of a slut, she’s a responsible one. 

“Jen, would it make you more comfortable to start by watching or participating?” 

(Ana is gentle, and sweet, and Judy was _totally_ _right_ when she called her a really special person.)

Jen gulps. 

“Watching, I think.” 

Ana turns towards Judy, smiles in a way that’s only predatory enough to make her stomach drop in the good way, and kisses her. 

She’s really good at kissing. 

Maybe better than Michelle, actually? Although Judy firmly believes that kissing is an expression of a person’s personality, and therefore can’t be ranked on a numerical scale- but Ana has absolutely gotten her groove back in this moment, and she’s maybe found a way to channel some of her frustrations with Judy through her mouth and it’s…  _ nnnnngffff.  _

When they part ways, and Judy looks at Jen, she’s breathing heavily and her eyes are dark. 

“You want a turn?” Perez beckons, and Jen answers by taking her face in her hands and  _ going for it _ , and oh, Judy thinks watching might actually be better than participating in this instance, and that’s saying a lot. Jen looks shocked at first, by the contact, but she opens her mouth and closes her eyes, and  _ fuck _ , Judy would like to know what else that tongue can do, thanks. 

She’s already got her wrap dress open and one hand inside when Ana and Jen part. 

“Jesus, Jude, eager much?”

“What can I say? I’m easy.” 

“I was hoping you’d be,” Jen smirks, challenging her to complete the triangle, so they can move on to bolder and better things. 

Jen kisses Judy like she has something to prove- and maybe she does, to herself, but Judy just wants to tell her  _ you’re enough, you’ve won already, don’t you realize how I’ve been hoping for this since the moment we met,  _ but her mouth is otherwise occupied. 

It’s maybe not what Judy would choose sheerly for a makeout alone (languid kisses really have a special place in her heart, especially when she’s stoned or wine-drunk),, but if Jen fucks like she kisses… Judy could die a happy woman tonight.

She’d always imagined that she’d take the lead here- that Jen would be too nervous about kissing a woman for the first time, but since Ana took care of that problem, Jen is like,  _ all _ in. Her (recently trimmed, on Judy’s advice) nails graze the base of Judy’s scalp, and Judy involuntarily tangles her hand in the fabric of Jen’s shirt, as if she squeezes hard enough, maybe she won’t moan loud enough to give away how needy she is. 

(It doesn’t work, but then Jen sucks on her tongue and Judy thinks that’s honestly a better outcome than she could ever have dreamed.)

Ana clears her throat, causing Jen to pull back, which Judy appreciates from the standpoint of being an organism with lungs, and regrets from the perspective of finally figuring out how to move with Jen instead of against her. 

(Maybe they can keep practicing kissing later. You know, just to really nail their technique, in case there’s like a local kissing competition or something.)

“Judy, do you want to take this off?” 

She doesn’t have to be asked twice (and yes, she _ had  _ picked the wrap dress specifically for ease of removal, what of it?). 

Judy _ loves  _ being naked, loves the feeling of another person moving against her skin, loves how deeply her body feels all the things that her brain can’t always process. Normally, she’d slow down the striptease, put on a show, but the exhibitionist in her wants to be bare and exposed. Her nervous system sings, when the cool air of Jen’s expensive HVAC system hits her skin. 

She feels Jen’s eyes on her, hot and excited, but chooses to meet Ana’s gaze instead. Looks like they’ve finally found their common ground.

_ (Working together to go down on Jen, more like. Nailed it.)  _

Perez divests of her shirt and trousers, and her satin lingerie is a lovely surprise. 

“You’ve been holding out on us,” Judy teases, while Jen mutters “Holy shit”, and genuflects. 

Judy has a great appreciation for complementary colors- the deep red of Ana’s bra against her skin is frankly _ art _ \- and it’s honestly unbelievable that Ana doesn’t just like, walk around in her underwear 24/7, because she would have the world at her feet. 

Jen makes quick work of her own clothes, and Judy’s seen her underwear drawer before, because sometimes she volunteers to do laundry out of entirely wholesome motives, but the lace really hits differently when Jen’s  _ wearing _ it. Jen looks uncomfortable, shifting her weight back and forth, so Judy mouths “ _ you are so beautiful _ ” before returning her attention to Ana. 

“Shall we show Jen how it’s done?” Ana offers, gesturing for Judy to lie on her back. 

Judy grabs Jen’s hand, assuring her it’s all okay, that she can want and take and touch any part of Judy, right now. 

“I won’t break, Jen. Do your worst, babe.” 

Jen kneels beside Judy’s upper body, looking at her with wonder and trepidation, and more than anything, _ desire. _

Ana settles between her legs, teasing her with light touches before backing off, leaving Judy arching her hips and seeking out more contact. 

(Yeah, she could have guessed that she wouldn’t have played nice. Joke’s on Ana though, Judy’s favorite thing is not playing nice.) 

Judy usually closes her eyes, right away, so she can really get in touch with her body, but her eyes are locked with Jen’s, Jen following her every movement, the way her forehead wrinkles when Ana circles her entrance, how she bites her lip when her fingertips circle her clit. 

Jen lightly trails a finger across Judy’s collarbone, before tentatively brushing against her breast. 

It’s basically nothing, but Judy feels her nipple tighten, can’t help the gasp that escapes. 

“Fuck, Jen, that’s so  _ good _ .” 

(Ana decides to up the ante, and begins touching her in earnest, and it’s really a shame that Judy has never done this before, had two pairs of hands on her body, because it is actually heaven,  _ wowwwww. _ )

Ana rakes her nails down the insides of Judy’s thigh, before splaying a hand across her hip and pinning her to the mattress, and Judy  _ whines  _ when she can’t arch upward any more. That, in turn, causes Jen to whisper “fuck, Judy, you are so fucking hot, jesus fucking christ I want you like this every second of every day,” into her ear, which just makes her whimper more. 

(Schoolhouse Rock was right: three  _ IS _ a magic number.) 

She knows she’s loud, and probably over the top, but Judy honestly thrives on having an audience, and every sound she makes encourages Jen to touch her more, until Jen’s’s biting her neck and pinching her nipples and Ana has three fingers inside her and a thumb on her clit and holy fuck it’s a good thing that the boys are gone because when Judy comes, she  _ screams. _

They give her a minute to come down, Jen stroking her arms and kissing her forehead, while Ana gently withdraws her fingers. 

“Okay, well  _ that  _ was amazing. Who’s next?” 

Judy looks between Ana and Jen, and Jen looks like she could come with an intense enough look, but she’s grasping for anything she can control. 

“Ana, I would  _ love _ to fuck you,” Jen states calmly, like she says “I would  _ love _ to sell your house,” or “I would  _ love _ to have another glass of wine.” 

Ana nods, unhooking her bra (praise lesbian Jesus), and taking Judy’s place. 

She stops Judy with a hand when she moves to assume Jen’s previous position. 

“You can watch.” 

“Oh, of course! Sounds great!” 

(She’s not lying- seeing Jen fuck another woman is like, prominent on her dream board, especially with the knowledge that god willing, she’ll get to eat her out afterwards. )

Ana guides Jen’s hands, looks over at Judy every now and then as if to say “ _ I still hate you, but this is fucking hot, right? _ ,” and it  _ is _ , Jen’s increasing confidence, Ana letting down her guard, moving that  _ seriously incredible _ body. 

Ana talks Jen through it- “There, that’s it, yes baby, wow, you are a quick study that is so good, Jen, yes, just like that, keep going-” and once she and Jen find their groove, she looks back at Judy. 

“You like to talk, Judy?” 

“Fuck yeah, I like to talk.” 

(Judy’s never had so much fun in her life.) 

“Tell me what you like about what you see, then.” 

“Fuck, Ana, you’re fucking gorgeous. I love seeing how wet you are for Jen. And I wasn’t kidding about the great gams- your legs are like granite wrapped in silk. And Jen, god, I swear I could come again watching you fucking her. You have like really, really good arms. And you’re  _ totally _ a natural.” 

“Keep it on topic, Judy.” 

Judy remembers that their ultimate goal at the moment is an orgasm for Ana (which kind of sounds like a Lifetime Movie- maybe she can try that joke later), and reworks her dialogue to that end. 

“Ana, baby, you are so, so good. Are you going to come for me?” 

She tries to speak for Jen, as Jen is currently way too focused on the mechanics of making another woman come for the first time (although, way to combine penetration and clitoral stimulation on her first at-bat, you go girl!) and not at all in the headspace to  _ talk _ .

“I can tell how close you are. I want to see you come around Jen’s fingers, can you do that for me, Ana?” 

  
  


It does the trick- Ana’s sighs are still quiet, but gathering in intensity, and she finishes with a shiver, followed by a beatific smile. 

Jen stares at her hand as if it’s the eighth wonder of the world, and as Ana comes back, Judy brings Jen’s fingers to her mouth and sucks them clean, with a wink for good measure. 

“God, you’re a brat, Judy,” Perez laughs, but there’s no fire behind it. 

(She swallows the laugh when Judy closes her eyes and sucks  _ hard _ on Jen’s hand.)

When Judy opens her eyes, Jen is staring at her, lips parted and wet, nostrils flared wide, her body giving away how fucking turned on she is, even if she refuses to say so aloud. 

She looks younger, Judy thinks, and she contemplates, not for the first time, what would have happened if she had met Jen earlier, before kids and husbands and too many disappointments.

But tonight is all about satisfaction, and Judy intends to make Jen feel very,  _ very _ satisfied. 

“Jennifer Harding,” Judy kneels before her, faux-serious, “Would you do me the greatest honor of letting me put my mouth on you until you pass out?” 

“God Jude, I thought you’d never ask. Way to make a girl wait.” 

Judy tackles her to the mattress with a giggle and a shout, straddling her Jen’s lap before kissing her way down her body, smiling the whole way.

Ana lies beside Jen, too spent to do much more than kiss, which is perfect for Jen’s aversion to above-the-belt action. And knowing Jen, Ana’s sated sighs are a huge ego boost, which Judy would bet good money is in turn a giant turn-on for her.

(Honestly, they could  _ not _ have done the logistics on this better. High fives all around!) 

Judy kisses Jen’s stomach, trying not to put  _ too _ much love into her admiration for the scars and marks that brought her Charlie and Henry. 

(That’s like, _ advanced _ gay lady behavior, right there, lovingly caressing stretch marks. She’s very hopeful that she’ll get the chance to work her way up to it, eventually. )

Jen’s lace underwear is already soaked through (oh no, tragic, Judy might have to buy her new ones, whatever will she do), and she inhales sharply as Judy hooks her thumbs into the waistband and throws them across the room. 

Judy can’t help her happy sigh when she tastes Jen for the first time- it’s maybe the only thing she really didn’t know about Jen until this precise moment. 

And that’s the power of female friendship- no secrets except for those discovered through cunnilingus. 

“Heaven on a fucking stick, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.” 

“Oh my god I hate you.” 

“Do you really?”

“I hate that you’re talking right now.” 

Judy agrees on that front, and resumes her work, memorizing the feel of Jen with her tongue, committing it to memory for future lonely nights. 

(It’s like, totally ethical to fantasize about someone after you’ve already fucked. What are they going to do- police your memories?) 

Judy looks up to meet Jen’s gaze (which is her favorite part about doing this with a woman, locking eyes while she’s between her thighs, this is what dreams are made of) and it’s too much for Jen- she closes her eyes and bites her lip hard enough to leave a white mark. 

Judy catches Ana’s eye, and winks (because at this point, she’s incapable of  _ not _ ) when she sees her begin touching herself again. 

(She’s always admired that about Ana- her independence and refusal to let anyone stop her from getting what she wants. Sisters? Are doin’ it for themselves, baby.) 

Jen has one arm wrapped around Ana, and her other hand tangles in Judy’s hair, and if she keeps pulling like that  _ Judy’s _ going to come again, seriously. 

Then that hand coaxes Judy’s arm up, grabs her by the wrist and guides her fingers to Jen’s entrance. 

“ _ Holy hell, _ Jen.” 

“Yeah, Judy, I’m gonna need you to stop talking and put your mouth right back where it was,” Jen gasps, somehow managing to sound commanding. 

Judy gives a mock salute with her free hand before diving back in. 

Jen grinds into Judy’s face, and she’s gripping her fingers so tightly Judy’s afraid they might break, which would be awful, because then she wouldn’t be able to fuck her like this again. 

Ana’s egging them both on now (isn’t it wonderful when women support other women?), her voice wonderfully raspy in that “yes, I did just come” way. 

“Jen, baby, don’t hold back. Let yourself go, I know you want to. And I know Judy wants you to come all over that pretty face, doesn’t she?” 

(Judy moans a yes. It gets the point across well enough.) 

“I’m getting so close just watching you, Jen. Judy’s good with her mouth, isn’t she?” 

“ _ So. Good _ .” 

“Can you show her how good she is, Jen?” 

Jen’s thighs quiver and tighten around Judy’s head, and she would gladly suffocate if it means staying here one moment longer, but eventually Jen’s legs go slack, and her hand loosens its deathgrip on Judy’s hair.

Judy stands, wiping her chin with the back of her hand (not like that does anything). 

“So, do you guys want to watch a movie or something?” 

Jen groans, closer to sleep than not, and Ana is already in the bathroom, washing her hands. 

She walks back into the bedroom, adjusting her bra, and Judy takes one more moment to appreciate the sight. 

(If Michelle hadn’t dumped them both… now there’s an idea for group… But now’s not the place for wistful musings.) 

Ana slips into her shirt, fixes her hair so it’s less “just fucked” and more “will fuck you up”. 

“I’m gonna head out. This was… surprisingly good, and I would be down for a repeat performance down the line, but I think you two need some more alone time.” 

She looks at Judy meaningfully, as if to say  _ yes, I did notice that you treated eating Jen’s pussy as an act of worship, and no, I don’t think you would have been nearly as reverent with me  _ . 

Jen just sighs, dreamily, mumbling something that sounds like , “thank you Ana you are very good at sex and I honestly think we could be great friends even if we never fuck again, but also? We should absolutely fuck again.” 

“Yeah, I’m gonna see myself out,” Ana gestures towards the doorway, “but um, honestly, I feel ready to get back out there again. So, thank you.” 

“That is so great to hear! Honestly, any woman would be so lucky to have you Ana, you’re such a generous lover- can I give you a hug?”

Ana frowns.

“Absolutely not. But thank you… That’s kind of you to say.” 

“Well, if you want an extra pair of eyes on your tinder profile, or you need a wingwoman, you have my number, girl!” 

“Yeah, sure. Maybe when you’re not naked and wearing Jen on your face, though.” 

“Right, totally. I get that. Well, you take care of yourself out there! And oh- please take some of that cheese with you on the way out- the fontina is really lovely.” 

Jen waves half-heartedly from the bed, and Judy crawls up beside her as the door closes behind Ana, and the quietness of the house settles in. Judy can still hear her heartbeat buzzing in her ears, but Jen’s deep breaths help to bring her back down.

Usually Judy is the one who falls asleep first; it’s nice to see Jen so relaxed, open to the universe. She reaches for Judy instinctively, pulling her close, and Judy basks in Jen’s glow.. 

“Love you Jude,” Jen mutters, slinging a leg over her hip and hiding her face in Judy’s neck. 

“Love you too,” Judy whispers, kissing her hair and counting the fan blades as they spin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because I had to tie this up somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we did it!!! 
> 
> (thank you all for your support. means everything, truly.)

Jen wakes to a pitch black bedroom. According to her phone, it’s around eleven which means she must have slept for a couple hours. 

The room smells like straight up sex, and she’s still basically glued to Judy. 

She really has to pee. 

Jen kicks the blankets off, and Judy grunts and turns away from her. 

When she returns to the bedroom, she’s awake, sleepy-eyed and still  _ very  _ naked. 

(Judy would not go to the shower with a comforter wrapped around her. This is obvious, and yet still delightful.) 

“Hey, you.” 

“Sorry to wake you.” 

Judy stretches, yawns, and Jen’s pupils follow the rise and fall of her breasts, like tracing a pen light during a neurological exam. 

“It’s okay. I’m usually pretty sleepy after sex, anyway.” 

Jen isn’t, generally- she’s more than familiar with that feeling of unreleased tension, insecurity, and on occasion resentment. 

Tonight was very much an anomaly. 

“I guess I should wash my face, huh?” Judy laughs, and Jen cringes. 

“Oh, Christ, I’m sorry. Fuck-ing hell I would like to die right now.” 

Judy stops her spiral with a hand on her forearm and a searching look. 

“Jen, it’s okay, I promise. I just figured I had a better shot at getting you to kiss me if I didn’t smell like pussy, that’s all.” 

Jen sits with the knowledge that Judy wants to kiss her, now,  _ after _ well, everything. She wants to crawl out of her skin marginally less. 

Judy comes back to bed fresh-faced and eyes sparkling. 

“So… what a night, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jen exhales, letting her cheeks puff out. “That was, truly beyond my wildest expectations.” 

“Well now I’m curious- what did you expect?” 

(Judy’s badgering in her usual way, but she’s also deeply invested in Jen’s interior life. And frankly, after the events pre-disco nap, that’s an awful pun.) 

“I don’t know, that the idea of being in a threesome would be hot, but that it wouldn’t actually be that physically enjoyable. I honestly thought I might have to fake it.” 

“Did you?” Judy gasps, as if horrified. 

“No,” Jen laughs, “No need. I think you know that.” 

“It would have totally been okay if you hadn’t gotten there though- I hate that you felt that pressure! I just feel like sex is really about the journey, not the destination.” 

“I don’t know Jude, it was a pretty fucking good destination.” 

Judy sighs, flopping onto her back and spreading her arms wide. 

“Still think Miley had it right. It’s the climb, baby.” 

Jen reaches out, laces her fingers through Judy’s (she always hated holding hands before this fucking friendship. Which is maybe just another clue that it was never purely platonic, on her end at least.). 

“Are we just gonna be friends who fucked that one time now?” 

“Do you want to be?” 

“I mean, it was kind of too good not to do it again, don’t you think? Unless you didn’t think it was good…” 

“Oh, it was very,  _ very _ good. I mean, Perez- who knew? And we’ve established that I’ve been so into you from literally the get-go, and you did  _ not  _ disappoint.” 

“So you wanted to fuck me after realizing you killed my husband.” 

“That’s like, a really harsh way to put that, Jen, and I know that you’re maybe feeling a bit vulnerable right now, but I don’t think that’s fair to either of us. But I’m really sorry if I made you feel disrespected, or like I had ulterior motives.” 

Judy turns away, hurt, and Jen fucking hates herself and her stupid fucking mouth. And she hates that she didn’t just say the thing she’s been thinking since she woke up in the first place. 

“You were better than him. Ted. Or the sex was, at least.” 

“Oh.” 

They sit in the silence for a moment before Judy attempts to assuage her guilt. 

“I mean, I think it’s always different with a woman, you know? Different goals, different ways of meeting them.” 

“If we had gotten divorced, and you and I had met, and all this had happened… I think I would have felt happy, or free, like I was escaping from the confines of a loveless marriage but now… I feel like a bad person, Judy.” 

“Jen, you could never be a bad person. And just because Ted died doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to experience all that life has to offer now.” 

“It’s not fair though!” Jen cries, not sure if she’s mourning Ted still, or the idea of herself as a properly grieving widow. 

Jen can see Judy weighing the options of responding from her genuine, authentic self, or speaking to Jen in her language. She opts for the latter. 

“Listen, based solely on the fact that Ted spent the last year of his life fucking a twenty-something, I’d say you’re entitled to as many orgasms as you want from whomever the fuck you desire. It’s like, sexual karma.” 

“That actually makes sense, thank you, Judy.” 

“Of course. I’ve got your back. And your front. And whatever else you want me to have.” 

“Weirdo.” 

“Yeah, but like, you’re  _ totally _ into it, and doesn’t that make  _ you _ the weirdo?” 

Jen deflects with flattery, the greatest form of distraction.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really great tits?” 

“Aw, thanks, Jen, so do you.”

“Judy, I objectively do not. “ 

“I mean, to me, they’re great, because they’re a part of you. Even if you don’t feel connected to them.” 

“Oooookay, are you in _ love  _ with me?” 

Judy laughs. 

“Yeah, Jen, I kind of am. Is that a problem?” 

“I don’t know.”

(Her voice sounds alien, too unsure of itself.) 

“I promise I will never refer to what transpired today as ‘making love,’ if that makes you feel better,” Judy banters. 

Judy looks so beautiful, and so fucking sincere, that all Jen can do is kiss her. 

It’s slower this time- she’s not trying to prove that she’s hardcore enough to fuck a woman, she’s trying to tell her that she loves her, even if she can’t convince her brain to form the words yet. 

“I really like kissing you,” Jen murmurs against Judy’s lips. “I think we should do it more often.” 

“I love your mind,” Judy sighs, “I mean it, I’m like, so gay for your brain, Jen.” 

“Can I touch you?” 

Judy straddles her in response, directing one hand towards her breasts, while Jen uses her other hand to draw lines across her stomach, her thighs, her back, each stroke a prayer. 

“Fuck, Jen, if you knew how being close to you gets me so worked up…” 

Judy trails off, and in the absence of her words, Jen can hear and feel the evidence to support them, as Judy rocks against her thigh. 

Jen had always thought this particular practice was so highschool- what’s the point of basically dry humping if you’re already naked- but Judy is making a  _ very  _ convincing case for tribadism.

“You’re so beautiful Jude, I love watching you come. Will you do it just for me, baby?” 

“Oh, god, I love to feel you watching me. Spreading myself open for you. Fuck, Jen, I’d do anything for you, you know that?” 

(She does, in fact know this, but it’s a lot more fun to think about in a sexual context than like, hiding a body in a freezer.) 

“You feel so good against me, Jude. I love knowing how wet you are for me. How ready you are for me.” 

“Hnnnnnnnnng.” 

“Mmmmhmmmm. Let go for me, Jude. You’re so good, so, so good.”

Judy stills against her, rocking a few more times to ride out the aftershocks before slumping against Jen’s body. 

She’s tiny, Judy is, but her weight still feels like an anchor, something to cling to. 

Jen kisses her brow, pushes back the sweat-slick bangs that are stuck to her forehead. 

“Fuck, Jen, I knew we had chemistry but… I think we might be unstoppable.” 

“How does it compare to Perez?”

“Shut up. You know it doesn’t. I mean… not that I’m not open to a reunion special, if you catch my drift, but to quote Cole Porter,  _ you’re the top _ .” 

“Am I now?” Jen laughs, “And here I thought we had more of a switchy thing going on.” 

“Hmmmm I think that depends on the presence of thirds,” Judy muses. 

“Did we do this all backwards?” Jen wonders. 

“You mean having a three way before a good-old-fashioned one-on-one fuck? I don’t think so.” 

“Why?”

(Jen’s always felt the weight of traditional values more than Judy, in all areas of life.) 

“I kind of think you could have gone your whole life pretending _this,”_ she gestures between the two of them, “ wasn’t a thing, and I would have let you. Ana called us on our bullshit, and for that, I owe her many, many artisanal cheeses.” 

“She doesn’t seem like a big cheese person.” 

“Everyone’s a cheese person, Jen.” 

Jen feels a wave of drowsiness wash over her (even though she was definitely not the one who came- are sympathy orgasms a lesbian phenomenon?). 

“Jude?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we just go to sleep and write Perez a thank you card in the morning?”

“I really think you should call her Ana, Jen, you’ve been _ inside  _ her.” 

“Right. Can we just go to sleep and write  _ Ana  _ a thank you card in the morning?”

“Is it okay if I sleep in here with you?” 

(Judy looks sheepish, like she fully expects Jen to banish her to the guest house and command that her bed is a cuddle free space. Which honestly, kind of hurts, but Jen knows there’s reasoning behind the reaction.) 

“Yes, you can fucking sleep in here, Jude. Fuck, you can sleep in here every night if you want.” 

“What about the boys? Don’t you think they’ll think something’s up?” 

“Charlie has implied that we’re already fucking on no less than five occasions, and he’s on the record as thinking you’re _ much _ cooler than Ben, and Henry would like to rewrite history so that he lived in  _ your _ uterus for nine months, so I’m not really concerned. Besides. I sleep better with you here.”

“Well, gosh, everyone will benefit from a well-rested Jen Harding!” 

“They sure fuckin’ will, Judy. They sure. Fucking. Will.” 

Truer words? 

Were never spoken. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! always down for crack prompts, clearly they're my love language <3

**Author's Note:**

> i just think perez is an absolute fox and we should all be talking about that more, thanks!! <3


End file.
